Windswept

Windswept | Chapter 2

Willow's feet barely touched the floor as the brutes lifted her as if she were a sack of flour carried to a pantry. The one with a silver braid led the way through the quarters while Isaac and Max held onto Willow's dainty arms and dragged her up the stairs. She thrashed her legs around, hoping to kick or injure at least one of them, but it was no use; she couldn't match their strength.

A young deckhand stood frozen with his mouth agape, watching the two men drag the girl across the soap-soaked floor. Willow's screams pierced through the air, startling him before he turned away. Meanwhile, the other men on board barely flinched and carried on with their duties.

Her knees buckled as they pushed her onto the wooden plank. Her body fell forward, and she dug her nails deeper into either side of the board, careful not to move even an inch and risk becoming prey to the sharks beneath. "Stop this madness!" Tears flowed uncontrollably down the apples of her cheeks and plummeted into the sea, taunting her to let go.

One of the culprits cleared his throat, but Willow didn't dare look back and see which. "Sorry, Miss, but it's bad luck to have a lass on board." She felt the plank move harshly to the left and then to the right, shaking her entire body until she struggled to hold on. "Hopefully, the sharks will be more forgiving than us." His menacing laugh sent cold shivers down her spine, almost as if he enjoyed watching her torment.

A passage swung open in the distance, followed by heavy footsteps that echoed closer and came to a halt near Willow. The laughing and cruelty stopped as if the air turned sour with silence. The girl was too scared to move and gripped the board tighter until her fingertips bled.

An angry breath released from the stranger's lips, "Is that any way to treat a lady?"

"C-Captain, we-" Their once cruel laughter had turned into scared stutters, and Willow couldn't help but relish in their fear.

"-Save your sorrows. I want pirates on my ship, not animals." His voice was firm as he scolded them like disobedient adolescents.

Willow felt a creak next to her as strong arms wrapped around her waist, gently pulling her back to the platform. Once her feet touched the ground, she slipped from his grasp and backed away from the rotten pirates.

"Don't be scared, Darling; my crew lacks manners." He stepped closer to the girl, but she didn't dare look up and kept her eyes firmly on the ground. The lingering scent of leather and smoke engulfed her as his boots appeared in her vision. "You are shaking like a leaf." His calloused finger twisted around a lock of her sunlit hair, and he tucked it gently behind her ear that burned a shade of pink, "Beau, go and fetch her some blankets."

The boyish deckhand didn't utter a word and hurried inside the cabin for a blanket. Willow couldn't help but question if he was as frightened as she was.

"Nico, wake Phillips up; I don't trust you without him here." Once the Captain uttered his name, Nico straightened his back and listened to the orders like a loyal mutt. Willow caught a glimpse of a silver braid in her peripheral, and she could have sworn she felt his dark eyes dagger through her as he passed.

She felt the Captain's warm breath tickle her face as he spoke, "Now, how about we get Ellis to fix you up some food? You must be starving." He patiently folded his arms behind his back, like a true gentleman, but he was no gentleman.

She couldn't muster the thought of eating; the nausea was too much to bear as they sailed through the crashing waves. She swallowed the vile lump and clenched her teeth, "Stay away from me."

He looked taken aback, stung almost. "Now, here I thought I was being charming." He reached out his palm, beckoning Willow to take it, "Can I at least escort you inside the ship?" His kind gesture made it hard to believe he was a pirate, a Captain even, or maybe it was all a trick, a hidden test.

Either way, he was her only way off this vessel, so she took his hand and allowed him to guide her through the cabin toward his quarters. The ship swayed as they walked further into the belly of the beast. Lanterns flickered along the panel walls, casting shadows across the dimly lit passage that grew with each step.

"What's your name?" His deep voice only startled her until she remembered to gather her composure.

"Willow." A long pause followed, and she felt the awkwardness bubbling in her chest, caged by the laced corset hidden underneath her dress.

"Well, my crew refers to me as Captain, but you can call me Hart."

Hart.

The name almost seemed bizarre. Willow always believed pirates didn't have hearts, or souls for that matter.

He stopped in his tracks, causing Willow to glance at the man standing beside her fully. He was much taller than she thought, with olive skin and dark chestnut curls that slicked beneath his tricorn hat. Hart wore a white creased shirt, unbuttoned at the collar, paired with linen breeches and an embroidered navy coat with velvet cuffs. His handsome features would have been the point of gossip in Azare, not that he seemed to care.

Amber flecks of sorrow swirled in his brown eyes as he gazed back at her, "I'm sorry about my men earlier. They truly mean well, but they haven't seen a pretty lass in a while, and I think you shocked them. You know what they say about a woman being on board."

"Then take me home." It almost sounded like a plea. "I'm not supposed to be here. I was hiding and somehow found myself on your ship." She would have begged on her knees if that's what it took to be back with her father and sisters.

He shook his head vigorously, choosing not to listen to her blubbering pleas, "We are too far out to head back." He turned toward the door beside them, pulled a brass key from his pocket, and turned it into the keyhole.

Willow wouldn't let it rest and continued to talk him into letting her go. "I-I'm supposed to meet with the Duke tomorrow." Hart pulled her into the room and sat her beside his writing desk.

"Your rich squabbles don't concern me. As long as I run this ship, we will not step back into Azzare." His previously warm demeanor grew impatient as he threw his hat on the ornate rug and ruffled his hands through his matted locks.

They would have broken into pearly white pieces if she had gritted her teeth any tighter. She hadn't gotten her way for now, but she was sure they couldn't keep her on the ship forever—this wasn't a life for a lord's daughter.

"I'll fetch you some food; I'm sure Ellis will have some left over." He turned the key to let himself out and locked Willow inside the room before she could protest.

"Wait!" She slammed her knuckles against the door, but it was hopeless; he had already disappeared, leaving her alone.

She would have prepared herself for meeting the Duke by now, but fate intervened and left her on a voyage with deranged pirates. Although it could have been worse, she had heard tales of pirates trapping people in the brig, where they got eaten by rats or leaving them deserted on an island somewhere. Luckily, Hart had saved her from a near bitter end.

The walls were draped with sails and tattered maps tainted with past journeys they had embarked on. A carved desk perched in the center of the room scattered with pens, leather-bound books, and a single silver compass, but it was the weathered piece of paper Willow couldn't help but notice. Sunlight streamed through the arched windows, casting a gold beam on the scroll, summoning Willow closer.

She traced her finger around the curve of the page and opened the scroll onto the table. The paper had barely any trace of ink, or anything at all for that matter. She held it to the light, hoping words or drawings would appear. However, nothing did. It was completely blank—useless.

She couldn't help but ask herself: why was it sealed shut with wax if it was nothing?

She was so wrapped up in her thoughts that she didn't hear the door swing open with an angry pirate waiting on the other side.